Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Sugar & Whips ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

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Sugar and Whips

Part 2

“Wait here,” Trowa told the limo-driver as he and Quatre climbed of the black luxury car in front of Ventuno's club. “This shouldn't take too long.”

From the outside the place looked like an average private club, and many of the guests probably had no idea about the deals that were being made, literally and figuratively, underground.

Trowa handed the doorman a small business-card, imprinted with a black rose and Treize's name. “Mister Ventuno is expecting us.”

The man nodded and bowed slightly. “This way please!” He led them into the lounge and asked them to wait. A few minutes later Roberto Ventuno, a tall man of imposing statue, with jet black hair and an olive complexion, approached. They had met before, so there was no need for formal introductions.

“Master Treize sends his regrets,” Trowa told their host. “But he is otherwise engaged and could not make it.”

“Ah, I see,” the Italian replied with a slight shrug. “Oh well. It's not him as much as his checkbook I'm interested in.”

Both Quatre and Trowa smiled politely at the remark.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Actually, if you don't mind, Sir,” Trowa declined. “We'd rather go on with business and then be on our way.”

“Very well,” Ventuno nodded understandingly. “Let's go then.”

The two young men followed him into an elevator that took them below ground, where they entered a room that was slightly smaller, but similar equipped as the surveillance room in the `Black Rose'.

“Leave us!” Ventuno told the two men who were watching the monitors, with a dismissive gesture. Then he motioned for his guests to step closer. “There he is!”

The screen Ventuno was pointing at showed a small, scarcely furnished room. A young man, Trowa thought him to be in his mid twenties, was sleeping on a narrow bed. He was tall, slender and completely naked except for a pair of shackles around his wrists and ankles. Long, platinum-blond hair pooled around his head like a large silvery puddle.

Quatre frowned slightly. “What's up with the steel cuffs?” he wanted to know.

“We had no choice; he kept tearing off the leather ones, faster than we could replace them. He is not exactly the most cooperative person. That's why we chose to sedate him.”

Trowa nodded. “I see. Can I take a look at the papers?”

“Of course.” Ventuno handed him a thin folder.

While the young man checked the contract and everything that came along with it, Quatre stepped closer to the monitor, studying the sleeping figure on the bed.

“What's his name?”

“Merquise, Zechs Merquise,” Trowa replied after a quick glance at the papers. “But I doubt that that's his real name.”

Quatre nodded in agreement. It was unlikely for somebody to use his true identity when dealing with people like Ventuno.

“Mister Ventuno, Sir?!”

“What is it?” the dark-haired man turned to face the servant standing by the door, his voice laced with annoyance. “Can't you see I'm conducting business here?”

“I apologize, Sir, but Mister Tubarov has arrived. He is asking to see you.”

“Bring him something to drink and tell him I'll be with him in a few moments.” The Italian turned back toward his guests. “Another potential buyer,” he explained. “I have gotten quite a few offers for this one.”

“I can see why.” Quatre replied.

“I'm afraid Mister Tubarov came all this way for nothing. We will be taking him.” Trowa decided as he closed the folder. Even if he could never be trained to serve clients, with his face and his body, just putting Zechs on stage would be enough to fill the house. Trowa was sure that the master would see it the same way.

###

“He is gorgeous,” Quatre remarked, as they were sitting in the back of the limousine, on the way back to Treize's manor.

Beside him, Zechs, draped in a warm blanket, was still sound asleep. Quatre had positioned the young man so that the blond's head was resting in his lap. “But I wonder if he realized what he would get himself into when he signed the contract,” he added as he fingers played with a few silky strands of long silvery hair. “If not, training him might become somewhat difficult.”

“I'm counting on it.”

Quatre gave his lover a questioning look.

“I don't know if you have noticed but the master has changed lately. He seems to have lost interest in the `Black Rose'. I even overheard him talking about selling it.”

“What?” Quatre gasped in disbelieve. “He built that club basically from scratch, he can't just sell it. I thought he loved that place.”

“I think what he loved most about it is the challenge that came with creating it. But now everything has become more or less a routine. That's why I'm hoping that training a new pet will be just what he needs right now.”

“I wouldn't mind help him train this one.” Quatre brushed his thumb over the young man's cheek. “But I can't see that happen. I don't think the master likes to share his toys.”

“Yeah, that's something the two of you have in common, isn't it?” Trowa smirked.

###

When they came home Trowa had noticed that the lights were burning in the master's study. After helping his lover to bring Zechs into the house he walked upstairs and knocked at the heavy oak door. “Master, may I come in?”

“Yes, Please.”

Treize was sitting at his desk when the young man entered the room.

“You are back already? How did it go?”

“Everything went well,” Trowa replied.

“And?”

“We bought him. I think you will be pleased. Mr. Ventuno was not exaggerating when he described him as stunning. The clients will go crazy over him. But somehow I have the feeling once you see him, you might not want him to serve guest.”

“Really?!” One of Treize's eyebrows rose, his curiosity woken. “Tell me more about him.”

“According to the papers he is twenty-four. He is calling himself Zechs Merquise but that's probably not his real name. Mr. Ventuno said he was somewhat difficult to deal with and they had to sedate him…”

“How much did you pay for him?”

Trowa winced inwardly. He knew that question had to come, eventually. “Well…His debt was somewhat higher than normal, so I'm afraid I had to go over your limit.”

“How much?”

“Fifty-three thousand.”

“Hm… That's not too bad, that's only three thousand more than I told you to spend.”

“No, Sir,” the brunet shook his head. “I mean I spend an extra fifty-three thousand.”

For a moment Treize seemed speechless, or perhaps he was just waiting for Towa to tell him that he was only joking. Then he exploded, just as expected.

“You paid more than one-hundred grand for a pet? Have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea how long it would take for me to recoup this kind of money? Why the hell did you think I told you not to spend more than fifty thousand?...”

Trowa waited patiently for the master to blow off some steam before he objected. “Please Master, don't judge too quickly. Once you see him, I'm sure you will realize that he is worth every penny and then some.”

“Why didn't you call me?” Treize wanted to know.

“There was no time, Sir. Mr. Ventuno had already other buyers lined up, and unless you wanted to loose him to the likes of Tubarov, I had to make a decision on the spot.”

“Alright,” The older man grumbled as he rose from behind his desk. “But you'd better be right about him being worth his money.”

As the master walked toward the door Trowa stepped into his way. “Where are you going, Sir?”

“Downstairs of course, I want to check him out for myself.”

“Not yet, Master.”

Treize's right eyebrow shot up; his voice was heavy with sarcasm. “You mean I just spent a fortune for a pet I am not even allowed to see?”

“Patience, Master, patience,” the brunet told him calmly. “Quatre is still getting him ready for you.”

“Fine! Can I at least see the papers?”

“Of course, Sir.” Trowa handed him the folder.

Treize flipped through it quickly the looked up. “There are no pictures.”

“Really?! I apologize, I must have forgotten them.”

Treize's eyes narrowed slightly. “You really are trying to irritate me tonight, aren't you?”

“Of course not, Master,” Trowa's face was mask of perfect innocence. “That would never cross my mind. It's only an honest mistake I made. Just bare with it, Sir, and wait until Quatre brings him upstairs.”

###

Quatre set down a large bowl with warm water onto the nightstand. He studied the sleeping figure quietly for a few moments before he settled down on the edge of the bed.

The room had no windows, because it was located in the basement of Treize's manor. It was spartanly furnished, and the adjacent bathroom was small. But Zechs wouldn't stay here for very long; just until the master was sure he could trust him. Then he would move into a more comfortable room in the `Black Rose' - or more likely into a suite on the top floor of this mansion, similar to the one Quatre and Trowa were sharing.

The young man winced sympathetically as he removed the shackles from the blond's wrists and ankles. The skin beneath was rubbed raw. He carefully cleaned the abrasions, treated them with an analgesic ointment and dressed them in soft bandages. When he was finished Quatre considered for a moment putting the cuffs back on, but then he decided instead to go with a softer, felt-lined, leather set. Those wouldn't hurt Zechs, as long as he was willing to behave.

Quatre attached the young man's wrists to rings in the headboard with a short chain, then started to clean his entire body with warn soapy water, before applying a lotion that left his skin smooth and silky. The way in which Zechs' body reacted to his touches made him wonder if Ventuno's men had given the blond more than just a simple sedative.

Quatre could do little about the hair while Zechs was still asleep and lying down, so he left it for now, and rose to retrieve something to wear for the new pet. By the time he returned the young man on the bed was stirring. He appeared to be waking up. As Quatre fastened a leather collar around Zechs' neck the blond moaned quietly. Eyelids fluttered, then opened slowly.

###

Zechs senses started to return one by one. He realized that he was lying on a soft surface, then he could feel a pair of warm hands on his body. Still disoriented he opened his eyes. When he tried to bring his arms down he realized that he couldn't and he instantly panicked, pulling in the restrains that held him in place as hard as he could.

“Stop that! If you rip those cuffs I'll have to put the metal ones back on, and I don't think either of us wants that,” a voice, firm but kind ordered.

Strangely enough that voice calmed Zechs down. He turned his head, focusing on a young man with golden blond hair standing next to the bed he was lying on. “Who are you?” His voice was hoarse; his throat dry and somewhat sore.

“My name is Quatre.” The blond smiled at him. “Let me get you something to drink, you must be thirsty.”

He disappeared through a door to Zechs' left, and the young man could hear water running. Moments later the blond was back with a glass in his hand.

Since he couldn't sit up, Quatre supported his head while Zechs drank.

“Slowly,” the young man warned. “Or you might get sick.” He waited patiently until Zechs has quenched his thirst and pulled away.

“Thanks.”

“You are welcome.” Quatre set the half-empty glass down on the nightstand.

Zechs let his gaze wander, fist around the room then down his own body. He was wearing only a pair of black, very tight leather pants that were cross-laced down the side of his legs and in the crotch area.

“Where am I?” he wanted to know. “What is this place?”

###

“This,” Quatre replied with another smile, “is your new home. - You remember the contract you made with a man named Ventuno? You borrowed a large sum of money from him…”

Zechs' eyes darkened instantly. Apparently he did remember.

Quatre paused for a moment, but when the older man did not say anything he continued. “Since you were unable to repay your debt you were sold…”

“Sold?” Zechs echoed.

“Well, just in lack of a better word,” Quatre explained. “Basically Treize Khushrenada paid off your debt to Ventuno, plus a small extra fee as you can imagine, and now he owns you until you have worked off the money he spent. You understand?”

Zechs nodded. “When you say `working' off the money I owe. What kind of work are we talking about?” he asked warily.

“Master Treize owns a club called the `Black Rose'; an S&M club. I assume you know what that is.”

Zechs eyes widened, but that was all the reaction he showed.

Quatre was somewhat surprised to say the least. For all of Ventuno's warnings and precautions, the young man seemed rather docile. But then, he reminded himself, Zechs has only just woken up, and his compliant behavior was probably just a result of the drugs that were still in his system.

“Alright, let's get you ready. The master is waiting to see you, and he is not exactly the most patient of men. How do you feel? Do you think you can sit up?”

“I think so,” Zechs nodded.

Quatre unhooked the chains from the wrist cuffs and helped the young man sit up. When he put a leather harness around Zech's chest the blond grimaced.

“Ouch, too tight.”

“Sorry,” Quatre loosened the strap. “Is that better?”

“Still uncomfortable,” Zechs admitted. “Can't we just take it off?”

“Not an option, sorry. But you will get used to it and then you won't even realize it's there.” It took Quatre a few minutes to properly fasten all the straps around the torso and the arms, before finally connecting the harness to Zechs' collar. “Okay, almost done. I still have to comb your hair and then we are set to go.” As a precaution he tied the older man's wrists together on his back and snapped a chain onto the ring in his collar before he left to get a hairbrush.

“So,” Zechs asked when the blond returned. “How do you fit into this? Did he buy you too?”

“No,” Quatre shook his head. “I just work for him.”

“Willingly?” It sounded doubtful.

Quatre laughed. “Yes willingly, believe it or not. It's actually not a bad job if you like that kind of stuff. Quite a few people who came here under the same circumstances as you stayed even after they repaid their debt.”

“I can't,” Zechs whispered seriously. “I can't stay here. There is someb…something I have to take care off.”

Quatre frowned. He kneeled down in front of Zechs and raised the young man's chin, forcing him to look straight at him. “Listen Zechs,” he urged gently but firmly. “Don't do anything stupid.”

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T.B.C.

 

Author's Note: 

If you haven't already done so, take a look at the other 8 sketches (by clicking on the `Graphics' link in the menu bar above) Graphic #6 gives an idea of what Zechs might have looked like (in the way he was dressed) once Quatre was done with him.